


Tatoo

by Kikku_chan



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: M/M, Memories, Mention of Addictions, POv Shibutani Subaru, Past Friendship, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 13:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19230028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikku_chan/pseuds/Kikku_chan
Summary: Shibutani Subaru looks back at his relationship with his ex band member, friend, lover Yasuda Shota. It's and ode to something that was never ment to happen, or ment to have a happy ending. Short novell. All the feels.





	Tatoo

**Author's Note:**

> Bittersweet story. Kinda depressing. Don't read this for daily fluff dose.

I want a tattoo on myself, I know, I've already got more than enough in some people’s opinion, but that tattoo is going to be different. It's going to be about you. I want your memory to hurt. I want you to be part of me without a chance of me being stupid and trying to erase you. As I get older it may fade, as every tattoo does, but you will shine like a star, what you truly are, in my memories. You will be the Christmas tree what I never had in the darkness of my mind. Shiny, colourful, fun, bringing joy, gifts, family. I have a big problem with waking up anywhere else, where you aren’t there.

 

The old gramophone I had instead of a heart is dirty, rusty and instead of the good type of sapphire needle, or the best type diamond, I had a steel one. I say I had because as you may know those ones should be replaced after every use. Steel needles are disposable, they are supposed to be like that to make people pay a lot if they want to listen to music. Oh and everyone should pay a lot to hear my music, and me singing, that's what we call a carrier or to be an idol, aren't we? The best and sweetest kind of irony is that I don't have the right to even call my heart a gramophone since the only device that should be called like that was made by the company with the same name, and even though a company made me, it wasn't them. 

I still want you to feel I try, even if I can't give you my heart or the song from the record player since it was lost long time ago as the needle made its mark on the surface of the disc. I really want you to feel I try, but I can't throw away suddenly everything that ruins me. I can't give smoking up and run a marathon, or throw away the shots, and drink only beer or even better, drink only root beer. I can't throw away everything that makes me passionate and makes me suffer, because that's how I feel alive, and forget the morning when I wake up wishing I didn't, or the nights when I'm so damn empty, that a bottle being empty is so much better. You can say I'm not okay, but when I was? I don't remember. I'm already out of my hopes, it's enough for me if I live for one more day. 

 

Just for fun once I started to look after that zodiac stuff, because it fascinated me, how differently we sort people in closed boxes, by birth. You can't change any of that, you don't like what they tell you about your blood type or zodiac sign? Sucks to be you, no one cares about your opinion of the matter. 

 

We both born as Virgo's typical earth sign, the middle one between Taurus and Capricorn, we are supposed to be loyal, analytical, kind, hardworking, and our faults should be shyness, worry, criticism to ourselves, and our working attitude, not taking breaks even when we need it. Well as I see I've got all the faults right, and almost none of the positive things refers to me really. I think it's because when I was born the stars clearly said a big f* you, and when you were born, they, from the first glance knew, you are precious. I was oppressed by big rocks, while you stood in the edge of a mountain enjoying the view, I was hidden into a deep dark cave, while you laid in the grass between flowers. I didn't say or think you don't have to work hard, some of us just had to work harder, to achieve the same.  

You didn't grow up like me, wearing your bruises and wounds like trophies, and while you enjoyed the Art and Music of Kurt Cobain, you were never afraid to be a part of the ‘27 club’. Some days I wasn't sure to even live up to that number, and I'm constantly amazed how old I am currently.  You didn't grow up ripping your clothes only to feel something is in your control, or failing class not because you don't want to learn, or you are lazy, but because I've never had the time to sit down and learn as any other boys should've in that age. 

Back in the time before we first find a way into the others bed, I was so afraid that your enthusiasm towards me will vanish, because you will notice that I'm nothing more than bones, skin and broken dreams, and that doesn't sound like something I would desire. There are days when I'm not the one walking in that skin and bone body but my nightmares, and they pretend to be like me, only much more sour and angry and cruel with the words and actions. I was so afraid that you want to find someone who doesn't wake up as a nightmare monster in the morning when you would expect only good things to happen. Some random dude or girl who has a calmer voice, stronger arms to hold you in your doubt, sweeter smell, maybe good at cooking, or keeping the house clean, someone who would make your place home for two, with their presence.

 

So I spend my night with guys and girls I hoped to never learn my full name, or never look for me again after a disappointing night when I'm trying hard, but what I'm doing, not what I really want, so obviously it doesn't work. It's hard to do things like that when all I feel is your lips on mine, and my thought are full with your new hair colour, smile, crazy outfit you had on previous day, and your name echoes from gramophone and it's all so scary, in a very different way I've known fear before, it's hard to tell you. It really is. You came to my life when all I've had trust in, was my guitar, my voice, the first cigarette in the morning with a nice cup of coffee. No matter what the two other baka tell you I didn't trust them completely either. 

In my opinion, the most dangerous things of all, are youngsters with big dreams, without knowing the consequences of the mentioned dreams. Do you want the whole world to hear your voice? To know your songs? Good. You just had to sell your soul to a devil corporation that will use and abuse you in every possible shape and form, and the casting couch would be an easy way out for all the things you had to do, and let's not talk about the trusted senpais and how you can help them ease their frustrations. We the golden juniors can tell you so many juicy stories, that should be obvious to anyone with two eye, since you can point out from far away how mentally stable every single one of us are, and even if you can bring with you a hell of a lot of baggage from your family, it's childlike naiveté to think you can be so f*ed up just from that 

We are seven very different people in this band, and some I hope still wanders, why not eight. I'm the one who cuts his own hair, makes the worst decisions, pissing off the boss most of the time, and almost every clothes that I really own and not costumes or props I have a hole on, but I love them too much to throw them away, because if I throw them away I give others the permission to throw me away for all the holes and scars I have. 

In my living room there is the painting, that you gave me when I moved to this place. It's wisely telling everyone "To ∞ & ➡️" It reminds me also that my world doesn't end with you, or this band, even if I can bet you didn't have that in your mind when you gave it to me. Oh and also every time I look at it, I remember that I have to empty the ashtray.  I know, not so poetic or nice and some would assume I'm better than that from all my songs. But to be honest, it's good that the picture reminds me to do that it's always full. 

 

\---------  
  
I don't really remember when was the time you gave up on me, but I can tell you I didn't blame you for it. I mean sometimes in fever dreams I can see that future too, us 80 years old, still laughing too loud, singing too much, lighting up sparklers without any good reason, standing in the summer rain, holding hands, while everyone else runs into hiding, you watching stupid half fake documentaries about wildlife, I'm looking up bands that only have 100 fans, but they are still very good, and might be a big hit, if the industry was different. Instead of that here I am, you helped me, so instead of the old rust gramophone, I have a compass in the place of my heart. It's like the one Jack Sparrow has in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, it always points to the direction of my most hidden desires. 

 

I am sorry. I know it's hard, but the compass doesn't turn to your way, and it's because I'm not eternally grateful for your existence, and I hope one day you can smile the same way for hearing my name as you did in the old times. The fact is... I want more from life than safety, I have a burning hunger to know more, learn more, meet more new people, to hear more songs, to sing more, to be less of a comic relief to some anxiety-ridden 20 or 30 something women, and the lustful fantasy to others. I want to find out who is the Shibutani Subaru I have left with all the holes and scars, and you can't help me in that, the band can't help me in that, more lenience with the songs I want to sing, can't help on the matter either. I finally decided not to be the person who always has a cold beer in the fridge, a pack of Marlboro in the pocket, a vodka in the freezer. I don't say I will do yoga, or run a marathon, or drink gingerbeer from now on still, but I can see some light at the end of the tunnel. 

 

I don't think I will ever do a tattoo about you, you are far more important to me than a permanent, inked scar on my body. I've finally grown up to see how stupid they are, and also how shallow would it be, to represent you like that. One day I hope you will also understand that, and forgive me to think that it's better like this even if it's hard now, I think I would hurt you more with staying while the compass points to the void. I can't make you promises, that are not stupid in my head, but if it makes you feel better, I will never call anyone else the same nickname I called you, or delete all the pictures of fun memories, yeah I'm not just talking about the dirty pictures here, but also the more innocent ones, and some days I will listen to your songs on repeat, and will wonder if I had the right to send you my new lyrics and ask for your opinion about them. 

 

You are more to me, than a tattoo, but less than the world I want to fully live in.


End file.
